I can make myself invisible.
I perfected it at school. Mine was what is laughably called a public (meaning private) school and its purpose was to turn boy children into parsons and/or major-generals. Everyone was expected to join a quasi-military outfit and march up and down in brightly shining, heavy boots on a Wednesday afternoon. There was the one get-out- you could opt instead for the Duke of Edinburgh's Award Scheme. The DEAS regime was hearty enough- you had to read maps and go for long, manly hikes and camp out on foggy hillsides- but at least they didn't put you in a uniform.
I was so determinedly useless that the DEAS threw me out after a year. The final straw for them was when I and a group of my mates took a long and manly hike across some guy's private land and he effected a citizen's arrest and caused the school embarrassment. Thereafter I became invisible. While everybody else was shouldering arms and stamping their feet whenever a French master (pretending to be a sergeant major) told them they had to I was free to slope off down to the artroom and look at pictures of naked women.
I pulled the same stunt with organised sport. I was so determinedly useless at football and cricket that after a term or two the captains of sport stopped bothering to pick me for their teams and I was free to slope off down to the art room etc...etc.
You keep your head down, you pull your aura in and everybody else is so busy dreaming of goals or worrying about the polish on their boots that they just don't notice you're there (or not there, as the case may be.)
The problem with being invisible is that you never become rich or famous. The benefits are incalculable.